


Something Better than Before

by cherryvanilla



Series: Yuletide Assignments and Treats [4]
Category: Warrior (2011)
Genre: Canon Related, Character Study, M/M, Yuletide 2011, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryvanilla/pseuds/cherryvanilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Walk away now and you're gonna start a war."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Better than Before

**Author's Note:**

  * For [healingmirth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/healingmirth/gifts).



> Title and Summary by The National.

He goes to the local bar in town after the gym most nights. Sometimes he drinks, sometimes he doesn’t. Sports are always on the TV but rarely MMA. Tonight was a drinking night. Tonight it’s beer and then whisky. He always keeps his head down, not looking at the screen or the bartender or the door as people enter and exit. His body feels tense, on edge, fight or flight. He longs to be back in the ring already, the only place he practically feels at peace. Someone takes the seat next to him and clears his throat. “Hi.”

Tommy doesn’t look up, doesn’t make a sound.

“I, uh, see you in here a lot.”

He rolls his eyes to himself and knocks back his drink. “How special for you.”

Curious in spite of himself, he glances out of his peripheral and sees a man in his 20s, brown hair, attractive face.

“Alright, then,” the guy says sarcastically and gets up.

Tommy clenches his jaw, his hands tightening into fists. His downs the remainder of his drink and squeezes his eyes shut. It’s been forever since he had sex. He rarely wants it, prefers the thrill of a fight and the adrenaline it gives him, the ability to work off this storm inside of him that he can’t seem to quell. There was sex before the marines, blowjobs here and there by guys at school, then nothing, and then random one-night stands filled with emptiness. Girls never interested him, and yet guys couldn’t seem to give him what he wanted. He wanted to feel something, anything, but it never really worked.

He looks over his shoulder, sees the guy now sitting alone in the back, watching hockey on TV.

He tosses some bills on bar and makes a beeline for him. “Hey,” he nodded. “You want to get out of here?”

The guy eyes him, speculatively, and then shrugs and stands. They walk side by side, the wind harsh around them. He learns the guy’s name is Andrew, 26, works at an advertising firm.

They get in Andrew’s car and head to his apartment. Tommy drums his fingers on the dash and doesn’t speak the entire way. He can feel Andrew’s eyes darting to him occasionally, feels the tension rise in the air when he tries to start a conversation and Tommy just grunts in response.

He pushes Andrew against the wall as soon as they enter the apartment, taking his lips in a rough kiss. Andrew gasps into it and wraps his arms around Tommy’s back, hands tracing the muscles and gripping tightly. They kiss open-mouthed and frantic, Tommy tilting his head to bite along Andrew’s jaw and down the column of his throat.

“Wait, uh, _fuck_ , just.”

“What?” he mumbles, sliding his hand down the front of Andrew’s pants and feeling the beginnings of an erection. “Let’s just fuck.”

“I don’t usually do this,” Andrew gasps as Tommy presses the heel of his palm firmly against his groin.

“Don’t care,” he says, biting down sharply against his throat.

Andrew’s arms push at his shoulders and Tommy falls away, not because Andrew’s touch actually caused him to move, but he figures it’s polite to let him think so.

“I care,” he says, a little shakily, looking undone already. He really was rather gorgeous, decent body if skinner than Tommy would have liked, slight stumble around his jaw, chocolate eyes and pale skin now tinted rosy. “Look uh, let’s have a drink? Maybe talk a bit?”

Tommy sighs. “I’ll see ya,” he says, moving toward the door.

“Come on, don’t…” he trails off and Tommy looks back over his shoulder. He looks lost, like a kid. It shouldn’t be attractive, shouldn’t make him pause. “How about we watch a movie then?”

Tommy laughs to himself. “If you don’t wanna fuck, no need for this show, man. Say thanks but no thanks.”

“I do,” Andrew says, his eyes darkening as he licked his lips. And yeah, Tommy can see the desire there; can feel the charged energy in the air.

He stalks forward and runs his fingers down Andrew’s chest to his belly, slowly. “So let’s.”

Andrew shakes his head slowly even as his stomach muscles quiver under Tommy’s touch. “Watch a movie with me. I’ll make popcorn.”

Tommy sighs. He has nothing better to do and it was still kind of early. If he went to Paddy’s right now he’d probably jerk off and then go for a run.

“Fine.”

Andrew’s face lit up. “Great uh, what do you like?”

“Don’t care,” Tommy says, shrugging out of his hoodie and looking around the living room warily. There are bookcases and framed pictures and everything matched perfectly. It was a nice room, decorative.

“You really need to stop talking so much, you’re giving me a headache,” Andrew quips lightly as he ducks into the fridge and pulls out two beers. He walks over to where Tommy is standing in front of the TV and hands him one. Their fingers brush in the exchange and Tommy feels a charge through his body.

“Um,” Andrew pauses, apparently feeling it too. Tommy’s eyes fall to his lips. “Popcorn, you want popcorn?”

He turns away before Tommy can answer and Tommy finds himself half-grinning.

“Why not?” He turns toward the TV and sees some DVDs on the entertainment center. There’s a decent mix of genres: action, drama, comedy, gay-themed. “How about Mean Streets?” he calls out, figuring he should at least try.

“Sure! One of Scorsese’s best.”

They sit on the couch, thighs touching. Tommy’s mind begins to drift during the “Mr. Postman” scene. He thinks about the upcoming tournament, about his dad, about the Marines.

“Got a fight coming up,” he mutters, half-hoping Andrew doesn’t hear.

He looks from Tommy to the TV and back again. “Huh?”

Tommy shrugs one shoulder, his skin suddenly feeling itchy. “Doing this MMA thing.”

He glances at Andrew, watches his mouth open and close. “Oh. How’d you uh, get started with that?”

“Wrestled as a kid,” he says, shortly, already regretting saying anything. He tightens his fingers around the beer bottle and keeps his eyes on the screen.

Andrew’s knee bumps against his. “Well, good luck with that,” he says, voice warm and genuine.

Tommy closes his eyes and exhales slowly. This kid is only a few years younger than him yet he feels ancient around him, broken, battered. He’s not sure if he was ever that naïve and innocent. Tommy puts the beer bottle down and leans back against the couch, folding his arms against his chest and willing his body to wind down. They sit in companionable silence; their bodies flush against one another until it stops feeling overt and starts feeling comfortable, warm. Tommy’s head rolls a little to the side and knocks into Andrew’s. They turn their heads at the same time and Andrew smiles, a little lazily.

Tommy raises his hand to his face and leans forward, kissing him firmly. Andrew’s hand comes up to grip his shoulder as he kisses back. It’s languid and unhurried and slowly lights his body on fire. He couldn’t remember ever kissing someone this carefully before. They make out on the couch, touching nowhere except lips and Andrew’s hand on Tommy’s bicep while Tommy’s hand curves around his waist. Tommy wants to push him onto his back, climb on top of him and fuck out his own anxiety over the fight that is bottled inside, yet at the same time he’s oddly happy to do nothing but this.

They moan around one another’s tongues, pulling back at times to regain their composure before diving back in again. He feels Andrew’s fingers tense around his bicep, knows that if he were to move his hand lower there’d be an erection straining against Andrew’s zipper. He doesn’t, just keeps on kissing until Andrew’s breathing is shallow and his lips are blood red.

They break apart when the credits begin to roll. Tommy isn’t sure he’s ever kissed someone for that long. He also knows that standing up is going to be a little difficult.

“You’re uh. You’re really good at that,” Andrew says thickly, thumbing Tommy’s lips.

“Yeah, same,” he replies, breathing against Andrew’s skin and darting his tongue out to lick.

They study one another; disheveled, hard. Tommy never really got to do this much as a kid. He was too focused on his mom, on taking care of her. All he really had time for was quick blowjobs in the locker room after school. He never made out with someone in a car or in a bedroom until his lips felt raw and used.

Andrew drags his fingers through his hair and presses stop on the remote. “This was fun.”

Tommy nods, still feeling a bit out of breath, wanting nothing more than to go back to the gym.

They stand at the same time and Tommy knows he isn’t going to be getting a tour of Andrew’s bedroom tonight, isn’t even sure if that disappoints him or not.

“So when’s your fight?” he says as Tommy puts his hoodie back on.

“Few days.”

They walk toward the door and Andrew makes for his coat. “Let me drive you.”

Tommy shakes his head. “It’s cool.”

Andrew frowns at him. “It’s freezing out, Tommy.” He realizes it’s the first time he said his name. It sounds nice.

“I could use a run. I’ll be fine.”

Andrew blushes, a gorgeous flush up his cheekbones. “That your way of saying I worked you up?”

Tommy raises his eyebrows. “I think you can _see_ that.”

Andrew’s eyes seem to dart involuntarily to his groin, his blush darkening. They fall in step at the door. “Want my number?” Andrew asks.

“Okay.”

“Gimme your cell phone.”

“Don’t have one,” Tommy says.

Andrew looks at him for a moment. “Who are you?” he asks, rhetorically, not unkindly and then walks to get a pen and paper.

Tommy pockets the number, his mind mulling around the question Andrew didn’t expect a response to. Sometimes, he had no idea anymore.

“So. If I don’t talk to you, good luck on your fight.”

 _Fights_ , Tommy wants to say, _if everything goes according to plan_. Fights, and he really has no idea what he’s gotten into.

Tommy nods again and pulls him in close for another intoxicating kiss. It lasts longer than he intends and they’re both breathless again by its conclusion.

“You’re doing a number on my willpower,” Andrew laughs unsteadily.

Tommy flashes on an image of Andrew jerking off, his long legs spread and his head thrown back. If he left here tonight having fucked Andrew he probably wouldn’t be feeling this way. He’d probably have felt satisfied and then nothing at all by the time he was home. Now he feels tension within him, but a good sort; he isn’t used to it.

“I’ll call you,” he says as he walks through the doorway. He thinks he actually might, wonders what nights on a couch in front of TV, kissing and touching, could be like on a regular basis; wonders if the thrill would remain even after they fucked each other senseless.

His life isn’t that easy though, never was. After Brendan wins, after he’s crying in his arms and being led out of the arena with a broken arm and police waiting for him, he thinks about a lot of things. His dad and there brief reconciliation, his brother and all the time they wasted, and Andrew, whose number is back in his hotel room. Andrew, who could be at the bar watching him right now and hating the fact that he almost slept with a deserter.

Tommy hopes that maybe he’ll get the chance to make things right with everyone, for real. He’s run-down, beaten; so tired of being angry that he can’t even direct it at his uncertain fate. He’s got no more fight in him. He just wants to heal.

**Author's Note:**

> Since seeing the film, I've been struck by the fact that Tommy doesn't have a romantic interest. In this type of film, it seems almost certain he would have been given one, yet in that manner they went against convention. As such, I felt it opened a lot up to interpretation. This is something I've wanted to write for a while now. Hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
